THE FAMILY OF DU PLESSIS-THE du Plessis de Richeliue-Career of François du Plessis-Birth of Armand Jean-His life at Richeliue-He enters the College of Navarre-Transferred to the Academy-The bishopric of Luçon-Armand returns to the University-Consecrated bishop at Rome-He quits Paris for Luçon-Motives for this step-Letters to Madame de Bourges —His conduct as bishop-His religious attitude-Early relations with Jansenism-Connection with Bérulle and Father Joseph-Death of Henry IV.-Richelieu in Paris-Acquaintance with Barbin and Concini-Returns to his diocese-His attitude towards parties at court-Letter to Concini-Election to the States-General-Personal appearance-Feeble health- Character and aims.
THE family of du Plessis has no history. For generations it had lived in provincial obscurity on the borders of Poitou. In the fifteenth century François du Plessis, a younger member of the family, inherited the estate of Richelieu from his maternal uncle, Louis de Clérembault. His descendants were the du Plessis de Richelieu, and their chief residence was the castle of that name, situated on the Mable, near the frontier of Poitou and Touraine.
The first member of the family who played any notable part in history was François du Plessis, great-grandson of the inheritor of Richelieu. He rendered valuable services to Henry of Anjou during his brief tenure of the crown of Poland, and retained his favour when he returned to France as Henry III. Raised to the dignity of grand provost of France, François du Plessis became one of the most prominent and loyal servants of the last of the Valois. When his master died under the dagger of Jacques Clément, it was he who arrested the assassin and took down the depositions of the eye-witnesses.
The death of Henry III. left his Catholic followers in a difficult position. The traditions of his family seemed to impel François du Plessis to join the League. But he showed on this occasion a practical foresight worthy of his great son, and at once espoused the cause of Henry of Navarre. He had already gained the confidence of the new king by his bravery at Arques and at Ivry, and had just been appointed captain of the guard, when he was carried off by a fever during the siege of Paris on July 10, 1590.
François du Plessis was married to Suzanne de la Porte, daughter of the celebrated avocat, François de la Porte, and herself possessed of the practical ability which characterised her family. They had three sons and two daughters, and the youngest child, Armand Jean, was born at Paris in the rue du Boulay, on September 9, 1585. The child was so feeble and sickly that it was not thought safe to have him baptized till May 5, 1586. His god-parents were Marshal Biron, Marshal d ‘Aumont, and his paternal grandmother, Françoise de la Rochechouart.
Armand Jean was only five years old when his father died, and his mother carried her children from the capital to the seclusion of Richelieu. There, amid the disturbances of the civil war between Henry IV. and the League, the boy’s education was carried on for the next seven years. We have no evidence that he showed any youthful precocity or gave any signs of future greatness. Aubéry, who wrote under the auspices of Richelieu’s relatives, and who would certainly have preserved any family traditions about his hero, tells us nothing of this period of his life, so that we may conclude that there was nothing to tell.
A distant province like Poitou offered few educational advantages in the sixteenth century, and at the age of twelve Armand was sent to Paris, and was admitted to the College of Navarre. There he went through the ordinary courses of grammar and philosophy, and an anecdote of his later years proves that he retained a grateful recollection of this period of his education. In 1597 Jean Yon, one of the philosophical teachers of the College of Navarre, held for the third time the office of Rector of the University, and the young scholar, robed as a chorister, accompanied him on a solemn procession to the tomb of St. Denis. In later days, whenever the University wished to prefer a petition to the all-powerful cardinal, the venerable Yon was always included in the deputation. Richelieu confessed that he never saw his old teacher without a sentiment of respectful fear, and the deputation, even if its request were not granted, was certain of a gracious answer from the minister.
At this time Richelieu was destined for a military career, and he had only received the usual rudimentary education when he was transferred from the College of Navarre to the Académie, an institution founded by Antoine de Pluvinel to train the sons of noble families in the exercises and accomplishments which were to fit them for a soldier’s life. It was here that Armand acquired the military tastes which never deserted him. He was at all times ready to exchange his cassock for a knight’s armour, and equally willing to give his advice as to the handling of an army or the construction of a fortress.
The young marquis de Chillon, as he called himself at the Academy, was only seventeen years old when an event occurred which suddenly altered all his aspirations. In 1584 Henry III., in accordance with a practice not uncommon in those days, had granted to François du Plessis the disposal of the bishopric of Luçon. His widow, left in somewhat straitened circumstances, had found the revenues of the bishopric one of her chief resources. The episcopal functions were exercised in the meantime by one François Yver, who was avowedly only a “warming-pan” until one of the sons could take his place. But the chapter of the diocese resented the diversion of the episcopal revenue to secular and personal uses, and threatened to go to law with M. Yver, whose position was indefensible. In these circumstances Madame de Richelieu determined to procure the appointment of her second son, Alphonse Louis, to the bishopric. From 1595 he is occasionally spoken of as bishop of Luçon, though he never really held the office. Suddenly, about 1602, he absolutely refused to seek consecration, became a monk, and entered the Grande Chartreuse. In the next year M. Yver, on the suit of the chapter, was ordered by the parliament to devote a third of the revenue of the bishopric to the repairs of the cathedral and of the episcopal palace.
These events were a great blow to Madame de Richelieu, but she had still one expedient left. By a petition she delayed the enforcement of the decree of parliament, and in the meantime her third son was to assume the position which his brother refused. Armand seems to have made no opposition to his mother’s will. In 1603 he quitted the Academy, and resumed his studies at the University. His eldest brother, Henri, was now at court, where Henry IV. had received him with favour as his father’s son, and where he was able to defend the interests of his family. In 1606 the king wrote to the French envoy at Rome, urging him to obtain from the pope the appointment of Armand Jean du Plessis to the bishopric of Luçon, although he had not yet reached the canonical age.
Meanwhile Richelieu, who had taken deacon’s orders and completed his theological course in this year, became impatient of the delays of the papal court, and hurried to Rome to look after his own interests. He succeeded in obtaining favour with the pope, and was consecrated by the cardinal de Givry on April 17, 1607. There is no foundation whatever for the story told in later years by Richelieu’s detractors that he deceived the pope as to his age by producing a false certificate of birth, and that when he afterwards confessed the fraud Paul V. declared that “that young man will be a great rogue.” Equally unfounded is the counterbalancing story that the pope was so impressed with Richelieu’s stores of theological learning that he exclaimed, Æquum est ut qui supra œtatem sapis infra ætatem ordineris (It is only fair that one whose knowledge is above his age should be ordained under age).
On his return he resumed his studies at the University until, on October 24, 1607, he was admitted a member of the Sorbonne or theological faculty. For the next year he remained in Paris, acquiring a certain reputation as a preacher, cultivating the acquaintance of all who might be of use to him, and retaining the favour of the king, who frequently spoke of him as “my bishop.” From the first, his ambition was for political distinction; his avowed model was the cardinal du Perron, who had acquired a great but fleeting reputation as the champion of the orthodox creed against the Huguenots. Everything seemed to attract the young prelate to remain in Paris: in days when ecclesiastical duties sat lightly on church dignitaries, it appeared preposterous to expect him to reside in a petty, unattractive provincial town like Luçon, far removed from the capital, without society, with dull and depressing surroundings, and close to the chief stronghold of the heretics. Yet in 1608 Richelieu suddenly determined to bury himself for a time in what he himself termed “the most villainous, filthy, and disagreeable diocese in the world.”
His motives for this step are wrapped in complete obscurity. It is certain that Henry IV., though no strict champion of discipline, approved of prelates residing in their sees. He may have hinted to the young bishop that his newly-acquired position carried some duties with it. But it is more probable that the decision was due to Richelieu himself. He was always keenly alive to practical considerations. He may well have felt that to obtain distinction he must do something to deserve it. His powers were immature, and he had no experience in the conduct of affairs. The bishopric of Luçon was not a great stage to appear on, but it offered opportunities for practical work, and its very neighbourhood to La Rochelle made it the more important at a time when the position of the Huguenots might at any moment become the most pressing question of the day. It is possible that poverty may have been another motive. The family estates were fairly extensive, but they brought in a small revenue, and Richelieu was the youngest child. Even his elder brother, who enjoyed a considerable pension from the king, was always complaining of want of funds. Richelieu was throughout his life extremely sensitive to public opinion. He could make a respectable figure as a resident bishop on an income which was lamentably meagre for an aspiring politician in Paris.
His first care was to provide himself with a residence. His palace was in ruins, and in those days furnishing was a matter of great expense and difficulty. His letters to Madame de Bourges, who acted as a sort of maternal adviser and purchaser for him in Paris, are among the most interesting specimens of his correspondence, and illustrate that careful attention to details which always characterised him. The following was written in the spring of 1609, when he had already been some months at Luçon.
“I shall not want for occupation here, I can assure you, for everything is so completely in ruins that it needs much exertion to restore them. I am extremely ill lodged, for I have no place where I can make a fire on account of the smoke. You can that I don’t desire bitter weather, but there is no remedy but patience. . . . There is no place to walk about in, no garden or alley of any sort, so that my house is my prison. I quit this subject to tell you that we have not found in the parcel a tunic and dalmatic of white taffety, which belonged to the ornaments of white damask which you have procured for me: this makes me think that they must have been forgotten. . . . I must tell you that I have bought the bed with velvet hangings from Madame de Marconnet, which I am having done up, so that it will be worth 500 francs. I am also getting several other pieces of furniture, but I shall want a tapestry. If it were possible to exchange the valance of silk and gold from the bed of the late bishop of Luçon for a Bergamasque canopy, like that which you have already bought me, it would suit me very well. There are still at Richelieu several portions of the said bed, such as the laths of the framework, etc., which I could send to you. You see that I write to you about my establishment, which is not yet well supplied : but time will do everything. I have secured a maître d’hôtel who serves me very well, and in a way that would please you: without him I was very badly off, but now I have nothing to do but to look after my accounts, for whatever visitors come to see me, he knows exactly what to do. He is the young la Brosse, who was formerly in the service of M. de Montpensier.”
In another letter of slightly later date he shows a desire to impress his guests by his magnificence : “Please let me know what would be the cost of two dozen silver plates of the best size that are made. I should like to have them, if possible, for 10,000 crowns, for my funds are not large; but I know that for a matter of another hundred crowns you would not let me have anything paltry. I am a beggar, as you know, so that I cannot play the wealthy prelate; but still, if I only had silver plates, my nobility would be much enhanced.”
But Richelieu was not only occupied with the splendour of his table and the hangings of his bed. That he was, by the standard of those days, an excellent bishop, there can be no doubt. In his diocese he first found an opportunity to display those administrative talents which he was afterwards to employ in the service of his country. His correspondence shows that he took the widest view of his episcopal functions. Not content with admonishing his clergy, and seeking energetic recruits from all quarters, he also attended to the secular interests of his flock. In the hope of obtaining relief for their financial necessities, he writes urgent letters to the assessors of taxes, and even to the great duke of Sully. to hi delight his merits begin to be appreciated. He hears that the cardinal du Perron speaks of him as a model for other bishops to copy.
Of Richelieu’s attittude towards religion it is not easy to speak with precision. It was never the guiding force of his life; at all times he subordinated religious interests to considerations of policy. No doubt has ever been cast upon the sincerity of his belief. Scepticism was in those days the luxury of a few leisurely and self-indulgent critics. Richelieu’s essentially practical mind was averse to the speculative subtleties which lead to unbelief. Numerous passages in his memoirs show that he was more inclined to accept the current superstitions of his time than too curiously to inspect the evidence for them.
Still more difficult is it to lay down any formula about his relations with ecclesiastical parties. At the beginning of his career the chief divisions in France were the Ultramontanes, the Gallicans, and the Huguenots. To these were added before his death the Jansenists, a sort of advanced guard of Gallicanism. To the Huguenots Richelieu had no leaning, and he was ever ready to enter the lists of controversy against them; but he was always personally tolerant towards them, both as bishop and as minister. In a letter of 1611 he speaks of Chamier, one of their most vehement and outspoken champions, in terms of studied moderation: “He deserves to be esteemed as one of the most amiable of those who are imbued with these new errors, and if he may be blamed for anything besides his creed, it seems to be a certain too ardent zeal, which others might perhaps term indiscreet.” With the sects of his own Church Richelieu’s relations changed at different periods, and each had at times occasion to charge him with treachery or desertion. So far as their differences were doctrinal rather than political, he had no particular bias. He was a sufficient master of the scholastic theology for controversial purposes, as was proved by the works published during his lifetime. But the real object of these writings was to further his own advancement rather than to secure the acceptance of his particular views. He had none of the self - sacrificing enthusiasm and none of the deeply-rooted conviction of the religious prophet or martyr.
At one time there can be no doubt that he was powerfully impelled towards Gallican, if not Jansenist, opinions. One of the neighbours of whom he saw most was Chasteignier de la Rochepozay, the fighting bishop of Poitiers, whose father had been the friend and companion-in-arms of François du Plessis. The bishop of Poitiers had appointed as his grand-vicar, Duvergier de Hauranne, afterwards abbé of St. Cyran, and famous as the apostle of Jansenism in France. Another link in the chain was Sebastien Bouthillier, afterwards dean of Luçon, whose father had been the confidential clerk and had succeeded to the practice of François de la Porte, Richelieu’s maternal grandfather. Sebastien with his three brothers formed a small bodyguard of devoted adherents to Richelieu, and at every crisis of his early career we find a Bouthillier at his side. The dean of Luçon was an intimate friend of St. Cyran, and it was he who introduced him to another founder of the Jansenist sect, Arnauld d’Andilly. These four young men, Richelieu, the bishop of Poitiers, d’Hauranne, and Sebastien Bouthillier, formed a small association for the prosecution of theological study. Sometimes they met together at Poitiers, but when this was impossible they kept up a constant correspondence with each other.
But intimate as his connection was with these associates, Richelieu was careful not to commit himself to their opinions. His published letters prove that his aim at this time was to conciliate friends on all sides, and to quarrel with no one who could render him any service. He cultivated the acquaintance of Bérulle, the founder of the Oratoire, who established at Luçon the second house which his association possessed in the kingdom. But the most important friendship which he formed during his residence at Luçon was with François du Tremblay, already known as a stern monastic reformer, and afterwards famous as Father Joseph, “the gray cardinal.” Du Tremblay, who belonged to a noble family of Anjou, was eight years older than Richelieu. Like him, he had been destined for a military career, but at the age of twenty-two he yielded to an irresistible religious impulse and disgusted his family by becoming a Capuchin monk. He became an active agent in the movement of ecclesiastical reform which characterised the first half of the seventeenth century. Among the institutions which were subject to his care was the famous abbey of Fontevrault, near to which was the priory of Les Roches, where Richelieu occasionally resided. In 1611 the abbess died, and Father Joseph wrote to the court to secure the succession of Antoinette d’Orleans, who had aided him in introducing much-needed reforms into the abbey. Richelieu received instructions to supervise the election, and it was this affair which brought together the two men who were destined to be so closely connected in the future.
Before this the death of Henry IV. had to some extent modified Richelieu’s plans of life. He realised that the regency of Mary de Medici inaugurated a new period in France, that retired merit would be of no further use to him, and that in some way or other he must thrust himself forward. He drew up a formal oath of fealty, in which he and the chapter of Luçon expressed their devoted loyalty to the king and regent. This document was sent up to his eldest brother to be presented to the queen-mother. But Henri de Richelieu, who was a great person at court, and one of the mystic “seventeen seigneurs” who aspired to set the fashions of the day, rather scoffed at this exuberant profession of fidelity, and suppressed the document, on the ground that no one else had done anything of the kind. This was not enough to discourage the aspiring bishop, who determined in the future to make frequent visits to Paris. He writes to Madame de Bourges to ask her to find a private lodging for him. A furnished room, he admits, would be more suitable to his purse; but he would be uncomfortable, and moreover he wishes to make a figure in the world. “Being, like you, of a somewhat boastful humour, I should like to be at my ease, and to appear still more so; and this I could do more easily if I had a lodging to myself. Poverty is a poor accompaniment for noble birth, but a good heart is the only remedy against fortune.”
Richelieu spent six months in Paris in 1610, and though he did not obtain any employment, his time was not wholly wasted. At the house of the Bouthillier he made the acquaintance of Barbin, who held an influential post in the queen’s household. Barbin introduced him to Concini, and thus established a connection with the favourite, which enabled him five years later to enter upon a political life. But at this time Concini, though high in his mistress’s favour, had not aspired to influence the government, which was entirely in the hands of Villeroy, Sillery, and Jeannin, the veteran ministers of Henry IV.
Richelieu soon saw that his opportunity had not yet come, and he again quitted Paris for his diocese. But from this time he watched the development of events with ever-increasing interest, and he had made up his mind which side to take in the inevitable contest. The queen-mother had exhausted the treasures which Sully had amassed, in bribes to the princes—she had given them offices, governorships, all that they demanded. By these means, and by dexterously playing off the Guises against the prince of Condé, she endeavoured to maintain at least the semblance of peace until the king should reach his majority, at the age of thirteen. But her concessions failed to conciliate the nobles, whose requests became the more insatiable the more they were granted. The ruling sentiment of Richelieu’s career was his hatred of disunion and of princely independence. All his sympathies in the approaching struggle were with the court, with which he tried to draw closer the connection established in 1610. When the Huguenots in 1612 showed their discontent at the double marriage with Spain, and their leader, Rohan, made himself master of St. Jean d’Angely, Richelieu used his influence with the veteran Huguenot, du Plessis Mornay, to maintain order in his province, and wrote to the secretary of state, Pontchartrain, to assure him of his active co-operation.
His foresight had already perceived the means by which he was first to rise to power. He had no particular respect for Concini, who played a very vacillating part in the relations between the regent and the princes. But Concini’s wife had that secure influence over Mary de Medici which comes from the habits of a lifetime, and the favourite might be a useful step in the ladder of promotion. At the beginning of 1614 the storm seemed at last about to burst. Condé and all the chief nobles, except the Guise party, had withdrawn from court and were collecting forces. Concini himself, now known as the marshal d’Ancre, who had intrigued with Condé against the ministers, was in disgrace at Amiens. Richelieu seized the opportunity to write to him the following letter, dated February 12, 1614:—
“Always honouring those to whom I have once promised service, I write you this letter to renew my, assurance, and to know if I can be of any use to you; for I prefer to testify the truth of my affection on important occasions, rather than to offer you the mere appearance of it when there is no need: so I will use no more words on this subject. I will only beg you to believe that my promises will always be followed by, fulfilment, and that, as long as you do me the honour to love me, I shall always serve you worthily.”
On this occasion civil war was averted by negotiations, and the treaty of St. Menehould was signed on May 15. Once more the queen granted all that was asked of her. Every confederate received something for himself, either office, promotion, or money. But among their demands was one which was intended to express their devotion to the public welfare—the summons of the States- General. This was also conceded, and the assembly was finally summoned to meet at Paris in October. The nobles had intended to use it as a means of advancing their own interests, but they were disappointed. The court succeeded in managing the elections, and the vast majority of delegates were devotedly royalist. Richelieu was active in the cause and the exertions of his three friends, the bishop of Poitiers, Duvergier de Hauranne, and Sebastien Bouthillier, secured his own return as deputy for the clergy of the province of Poitou. As soon as the cahier of his order had been drawn up he carried it to Paris in October.
He was now on the threshold of his public career, and we may pause for a moment to consider the man himself, before attempting to follow him through the maze of intrigues in which he was so soon to be involved. His figure was tall and slight, but had not yet contracted the stoop in the shoulders which diminished his height in later years. His face was long and pale, with a prominent and well-formed nose, and surmounted by masses of long black hair. His lips were thin and tightly drawn, at times relaxing in a winning smile, but more often expressing stern resolution. Perhaps his most striking characteristic was a pair of bright penetrating eyes, under eyebrows which were naturally arched as if to express surprise. Clad in his purple bishop’s robe, as he appeared at the meeting of the States, he was the model of an imposing ecclesiastic.
His great misfortune was his ill-health. During his residence in the low, marshy district of Luçon he had become liable to aguish fevers, which frequently reduced him to absolute impotence of thought and action. The energy with which he had thrown himself into his theological studies and the administrative work of his diocese had prematurely exhausted a frame which had been feeble from infancy. He was subject to excruciating, headaches, which frequently lasted for days at a time. On one of these occasions he registered a vow, which has come down to us, and which shows the vein of superstition running through his imperious nature. If the Deity will cure his head within eight days, he promises to endow a chaplain with thirty livres a year, to celebrate a mass every Sunday in the castle of Richelieu.
He was capable, as we have already seen, of inspiring warm feelings of friendship and devotion; but his own nature was cold and reserved. His letters of condolence, even when he writes to his sister on the death of one of her children, are as measured and formal as a diplomatic epistle. Few human beings, except his favourite niece, could boast a secure hold upon his affection. Throughout his life he held himself aloof from ties that might bind and impede him. Political interests severed him from many of the friends of his early manhood, as, for instance, from St. Cyran, and he had no hesitation in sacrificing them for the success of his designs. He could appreciate devotion, but he could not return it.
Riechelieu set out for Paris in 1614 with a resolute determination to carve out a career for himself. In his bishopric he had learned to exercise his powers, and had acquired confidence in them. He was no longer troubled with the self-distrust which had led to his retirement in 1608. He had spared no trouble to form connections wherever opportunity offered, but he had been careful to avoid entangling pledges. That he had at all made up his mind to carry through the vast schemes of his later life it would be preposterous to suppose. His ability was practical rather than theoretical. His policy, was always to make use of circumtances, rather than to attempt to wrest them to his wishes. His one firm intention was to raise himself to political power; and he had the sublime confidence of every truly great man that his own rule would be for the advantage of his country.
QUESTIONS BEFORE THE STATES—GENERAL—THE PAULETTE—QUARRELS of clergy and third estate—Richelieuorator of the clergy—Concini and the ministers—Condé and the Huguenots oppose Mary de Medici—Treaty of Loudun—Fall of the old ministers— Richelieu rises to prominence—Conspiracy of the nobles— Arrest of Condé and flight of his associates—Richelieu receives office—His difficulties— Measures against the nobles— Assassination of Concini—Fall of the ministers—Richelieu at the Louvre—He quits the court.
THE States-General, which met on October 27, 1614, are interesting as the last assembly held before the famous meeting of 1789. In itself, however, it was of very slight importance. The essential weakness of these assemblies lay in the deeply-rooted class divisions which ruined all prospect of constitutional government in France, in the want of any practical check upon the executive, such as is given in England by the control of supply and expenditure, and in the tradition that their only function was to formulate grievances. The great questions raised at this meeting were the paulette and the sale of offices, and the relations of the spiritual and temporal powers. The nobles and clergy agreed to demand the abolition of the paulette. The deputies of the third estate, most of whom belonged to the official class, were by no means eager for a change which would have deprived them of a valuable property. The instructions of their constituents, however, were too distinct for them to refuse their co-operation to the other estates, but they insisted upon complicating the question by demanding at the same time a diminution of the taille and a reduction of the lavish pensions granted by the crown. This last request was a direct attack upon the nobles, and a quarrel was imminent between the two estates, when attention was diverted to a new question.
The third estate demanded the recognition as a fundamental law that the king holds his crown from God alone, and that no power, whether spiritual or temporal, has the right to dispense subjects from their oath of allegiance. This at once raised all the thorny questions about the power of the papacy, which had been discussed with such vehemence in France for the last sixty years. The clergy hastened to resent the introduction of such a subject by a body of laymen, and to point out that the acceptance of the resolution would produce a schism in the Church. The support of the court secured them a complete victory. Mary de Medici had committed herself entirely to an ultramontane policy which was involved in the alliance with Spain. She had, moreover, a personal interest in the matter. An attack upon the supremacy of the pope would cast a slur upon the legitimacy of her own marriage, which rested upon a papal dispensation, and consequently upon the right of her son to wear the crown. The king evoked the matter to his own consideration, and the proposition was ultimately erased from the cahier of the third estate.
Emboldened by this victory, the clergy proceeded to demand the acceptance in France of the decrees of the Council of Trent, reserving the liberties of the Gallican Church. The nobles, irritated by the attitude of the third estate on the subject of royal pensions, hastened to support them. But the obstinacy of the third estate, more royalist than the court, succeeded in preventing the carrying through of a measure which France had persistently avoided for sixty years.
At last the cahiers of the three orders were completed, and were presented to the king in a formal session on February 23, 1615. We have, unfortunately, no record of the part played by Richelieu in the preceding debates, but that it must have been a distinguished one is proved by the fact that he was chosen on this occasion as the orator of his order. His harangue, which lasted more than an hour, is said to have attracted great attention. That it expressed his own personal views is improbable; many of its sentiments are in opposition to the whole tenor of his subsequent career. He seems to have conceived that his duty or his interest compelled him to act as the mere mouthpiece of the dominant majority, and to express opinions which he knew would be favourably received by the court. His whole argument is based upon the premises of ultramontanism. He condemns the practice of lay investiture, the attempt to levy taxes upon the clergy, whose only contributions ought to be their prayers, the interference with clerical jurisdiction, and the non-recognition of the Council of Trent. Only two passages seem to express the personal convictions of the orator— his vigorous denunciation of the exclusion of ecclesiastics from the control of affairs, and his lavish praises of the government of the regent.
From this time Richelieu was a man of mark; both Mary de Medici and Concini realised the value of the services which he might render to them, and his admission to political employment was assured. Henceforth his residence in Paris becomes more continuous, and his diocese occupies less and less of his attention. For a long time Concini had been kept in the background by the close union among the ministers of the late king, whom the regent had never ventured to dismiss. But this union had lately been weakened by a growing jealousy between Villeroy and the chancellor Sillery; and the chief link between them was broken in November 1613, by the death of Villeroy’s granddaughter, who had married Sillery’s son, de Puisieux. The discord among the ministers was Concini’s opportunity, and he determined to make use of it to get rid first of one section and then of the other. His rise to power was accompanied by that of Richelieu.
In the autumn of 1615 it was decided that the court should travel to the Spanish frontier to complete the double marriage which had been formally agreed to three years before. Condé and the other malcontent princes had given their approval to the marriages, but they now refused to accompany the court, and set to work to raise troops in their respective provinces. Regardless of the danger, Mary de Medici insisted upon continuing her journey to Bayonne. Her eldest daughter was sent to Spain to become the wife of the future Philip IV., and Louis XIII. was formally married to the infanta, Anne of Austria. Meanwhile Condé had collected an army, had evaded the royal troops under marshal Bois-Dauphin, and had crossed the Loire into Poitou. At Parthenay he was met by deputies of the extreme party of the Huguenots, who had already defied the royal authority, and the advice of their more moderate leaders, by transferring their assembly from Grenoble to Nîmes. They now concluded a close alliance with the oligarchical party, which pledged itself to prevent the recognition of the Council of Trent, to oppose the probable results of the Spanish alliance, and to maintain the Edict of Nantes. Thus the monarchy was once more face to face with the forces of disunion.